


Never the Same

by Frostbearer



Series: 50 themes - Vergil & Dante [31]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen, The harsh reality of life?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostbearer/pseuds/Frostbearer
Summary: Dante sat in the upper area of the Devil May Cry, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. How had everything gone so bad? Pre DMC3





	Never the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: #40 – Innocence  
> Originally written & posted in 2012 on ff.net
> 
> I'm aware I write Dante drunk quite a lot. I do think he's got drinking issues however it takes a lot of alcohol to get him drunk.

Dante was drunk. More so than what he usually allowed himself to become. He slouched in his favourite armchair in the darkness of the upper section of the Devil May Cry, an almost empty bottle of Jack held loosely in his left hand. To someone who didn’t know him, and even some who did know him, Dante appeared to be unconscious. Eyes more or less completely closed, breath slow and steady with what might have been an occasional snore.

The shadow standing in the darkness had observed Dante for maybe fifteen minutes, not moving a muscle to betray his presence, merely watching what the other did. Others would also presume that Dante was in a real slouch, mood absolutely down in the dumps but this wasn’t necessarily the case. Those who had been around long enough knew that when Dante got that drunk there was one of four reasons. He was having a really good time and didn’t bother to hold back. He felt like it. He had been challenged to a drinking contest and won (Dante never lost. Never). Or last but not least – Dante felt like shit.

However, the shadow judged, that it was just that very last reason that was the reason for Dante’s drinking, mainly because he knew his brother a bit too well. There was a tightening around the eyes and something in how Dante was tensed up like a coil that spoke of distress.

“Do you remember the lake we used to play by when we were kids?” Dante asked suddenly, startling Vergil from his study.

Vergil moved out from where he’d been standing leaning against a pillar and settled himself neatly on the other matching armchair opposite to Dante, acting for the world like it had been his intention to have stood in the shadows watching his sibling drink himself into a stupor.

“I seem to recall that you had a certain aptitude for falling into the lake, yes,” Vergil agreed, his tone of voice dry.

Dante’s lips quirked upwards as he remembered it and gave a brief nod to acknowledge the event. He looked up through thick silver lashes, studying his twin who gazed back at him with cool blue eyes.

“Did you know that they’ve flooded the entire valley? Everything gone. Just like that.”

Vergil’s eyes widened fractionally and his lips parted in shock before he quickly controlled himself and reverted back to the normal neutral mask he wore.

“No.” Voice controlled, calm, but Dante had seen the initial reaction.

Dante drew a hand through his face and hair and leaned forwards so that his elbows rested on his knees, gingerly placing the bottle on the low overstuffed coffee-table in front of him, just between some old pizza-cartons and leftover take-out food, disturbing a few bottles of tomato-juice and almost causing them to fall off. 

The younger twin gave a heavy sigh; the faraway look on his face that one of someone who had come back from war.

“Apparently some hotshot electricity company decided that the area was optimal for a dam, what with the isolated area and everything. So everything around where we grew up is gone. Only that town a couple of miles up the road, y’know, where mom took us to celebrate our fifth birthday?” He paused momentarily to look at Vergil who nodded almost imperceptibly, “that’s the closest thing nearby that’s left. Everything else is flooded.”

Vergil rose and went to stand by the window, staring out at the crowded city below. Dante could only imagine the thoughts that went through Vergil’s head, every event that had happened in the tiny village they had grown up in that now forever was gone, and the only thing left were memories.

“What happened to the cemetery?”

Hadn’t Dante been paying attention and had that extra supernatural hearing he wouldn’t have heard the quiet question from his elder sibling.

Dante gave a low humourless laugh. “Gone. Buried under tons and tons of water. Her with it.”

Vergil’s left hand tightened around Yamato, the soft leather of his fingerless glove creaking.

“I see.”

Without another word Vergil went for the door, his pace brisk.

“Hey,” Dante said, making the elder twin pause in the doorway. “I’m going over there tomorrow. I’ve got space in the car if you wanna join in.”

Vergil just gave him a look over his shoulder, one that Dante through his extensive time spent being the receiver of knew meant not only “no” but “you already know the answer so why are you being moronic enough to ask me?” Dante shrugged, and by the time his shoulders returned to the original position Vergil had left.

Dante sighed again, and picked up the bottle to take a swig. It didn’t taste anything. Nothing really did. Not anymore.

By the time the sun rose hours later Dante still sat leaned back in his armchair, an almost empty bottle of cheap whiskey in his hand, eyes nearly closed and lulling anyone watching that he was asleep. The cluttered table filled with old pizza-cartons, magazines, leftover take-out food, bottles of tomato-juice and an empty bottle of Jack.  
Things would never be the same ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after watching a documentary about the last great construction of a great dam here in Sweden, and how it affected the people around it.   
> Also – in case anyone’s curious (or gives a damn) the theme “Innocence” refers not so much to that it’s about innocence, but about that it’s “Innocence lost.”   
> Another note is that from my way of looking at it anyone demon-kind can probably handle their liquor very well, ergo Dante isn’t really drunk. He’s just… buzzed. Ergo I’m not changing the speech-pattern. I think that the only occasion in which I’d change Dante’s speech pattern is if he’s a happy drunk, because then it’s intended to be funny. This isn’t.


End file.
